Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Ulysses
“So, what are your intentions toward our Finnegan?” Giancarlo eyed me across the firehouse kitchen table. With a sparkle in his eyes.
“I intend—” How the fuck am I supposed to answer this? “He deserves to be treated well, and I plan to do exactly that.”
The fireman gave me the once-over. “I think you might be good for him. God knows, he deserves someone special. Too long playing the field, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Probably because I was guilty of much the same thing. Before Finn, I’d never met someone who made me consider removing myself from the, uh, game. “I appreciate you letting me in.”
“Chief’s not here, and you said you had a few questions about our gear?”
“Yeah. If you can take me through what happens after a call comes in, that would be amazing.”
“Sure. Finn should be here soon.” He eyed me.
“I don’t want to be seen as having favorites. Now, apparently there have been more calls than usual.”
That derailed him sufficiently that, along with the questions I peppered him with, I was able to keep him occupied for a full forty minutes before Finn showed up.
When my ginger fireman arrived, he didn’t appear pleased to see me—given the furrow in his brow. “Can I talk to you?”
Giancarlo’s gaze shot between the two of us. He held up his hands. “I’m innocent.” With that, he headed toward the kitchen.
Finn gestured for me to follow him out of the station house.
Once we were outside, he rounded on me. “Stop poking around my station. I’m getting to know how you operate. You think there’s something hinky going on. I’m telling you—there’s nothing wrong with my team. Keep your nose out.”
I held his gaze. “If there’s nothing wrong with your team, then there shouldn’t be an issue with me asking innocent questions.”
He snorted. “Nothing is innocent with you. You’re a disaster waiting to happen. I just can’t figure you out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out, Finn. I am exactly as I seem. Now, can you point me to the bathroom?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now I know you’re up to something. Care to share?”
“Nope. I’ve just got to take a leak. Literally that simple.”
“Nothing is that simple. Nothing is literal with you either. You’ve always got an ulterior motive. The problem is I just can’t figure out what it is.” He scrunched his nose. “And you’re not as you seem. You’re keeping secrets from me.”
I leaned closer. “Finn, there’s nothing between us. Literally or figuratively.”
A blush stole across his cheeks.
Oh my God, that’s so adorable. Then I replayed the words in my mind. “I didn’t mean nothing between us. I mean—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “I know what you meant. And I suppose I can show you the bathroom. I’m not certain I trust you, though.”
“I’m an honest guy.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
Before I had a chance to interrogate him on that one, he headed back into the fire hall, and I followed.
Since I really did have to piss, that took a few moments as I gathered my thoughts. What did I know versus what was actually conjecture? I just wasn’t certain.
Finn was there to escort me out. As I got into my SUV, he held my door open for a moment. “What are you doing, Ulysses? What do you know that I don’t?”
I offered a cocky grin. “Sorry, if you want me to answer your questions, you need to buy me dinner first.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m off shift in twelve hours. How about breakfast at Fifties?”
“Sounds delicious.” I gently brushed my hand against his—both to move it out of the way and because I really needed the skin-on-skin contact.
He didn’t smile as I closed the door…but he didn’t scowl either. So I took that as a win.
Since dinnertime was near, I swung by Wendy’s drive-through for a burger and poutine.
At home, I set up my laptop on the dining room table.
Then I pulled out my notebook and started writing on index cards—one for every notable incident.
One for every person who I’d spoken to. Finally, one for every location I’d investigated.
A shit ton of cards and not a single cohesive thought.
I dug my fork into the fries—smothered in gravy and melted cheese curds—and tried to piece things together in my mind.
Either I was looking at several separate incidents or they were somehow collectively linked.
Neither explanation made sense. Mission City didn’t—at least by all appearances—seem to be a hotbed of criminal minds.
So, did that rule out everything being unrelated?
That one person, or persons, was responsible for everything?
Or did that mean there happened to be multiple people involved in multiple crimes.
And what were the crimes?
Finished with the poutine, I moved on to the cheeseburger.
If a pattern existed, I simply wasn’t seeing it. Nothing was coming into sharper focus and, the longer I looked at this, the less sense it made.
I picked up the phone and hit speed dial. I needed fresh eyes on this stuff, and no eyes were fresher than Spring’s.
“Hello Boss. How’s it going?”
“Hey, Dixon. You have a moment?”
“Sure. Just a sec.”
Muffled voices.
I winced.
Spring came back on. “Okay, what’s up?”
“It can keep until tomorrow. You’ve got other stuff—”
“I have a sister who had a bad day at work. She’ll survive.”
I frowned. “The psychologist, vet, dog trainer, ranch manager, or bookstore clerk?”
She burst out laughing. “Oh my God. You remember?”
“I do try. Your sisters are…infamous.”
“They’re something.” She chuckled. “Zephyra. She had a cat die today who shouldn’t have, and she’s super upset about it.”
“This can wait—”
“You called, so obviously it’s important. What do you have?”
“Fires, hinky restaurant goings-on, and an animal shelter.”
“Ah.” Rustling. “You think they’re connected.”
“Don’t you?”
“I’d say this is farfetched.” She sighed. “Take me through it.”
“Okay. So you heard something was going on at the animal shelter.”
“Unusual adoptions, yeah.”
“And we’ve figured out there’s likely a dog-fighting ring being run out of the back of Tully’s.” I rubbed my forehead. “So those are probably connected.”
“Yep. Which leaves the unusual number of fires.”
“Hmm.” She was silent for a moment. “Again, you think they’re all connected.”
“Possibly. But you know this town better than I do. You’d know if something was up—right?”
“Boss. Darling. I do not have an in with Mission’s criminal elements. Hell, I get more from the police department than sources. Possibly because my ex-brother-in-law likes to give me a hard time.”
“The RCMP officer? Sunshine’s ex-husband?”
“Yep.”
“I would think that would mean you’d get less information.”
“You’d think.” She snorted. “Constable Seth Jacobs—Colton’s good friend—feels sorry for me because Colton’s so mean.”
I heard the air quotes.
“So he feels sorry for you?”
“Whatever works. Seth’s a good guy. Colton’s an asshole. Does it really matter who my source is? Anyway, Seth didn’t give me either the restaurant or the animal shelter.”
“Who did?”
“Ah…can’t share that. And you’re forgetting the tainted drugs.”
“David. Fuck. Yeah, I forgot about that.” I put the phone on the table and wrote the young man’s name on an index card. “How does he fit into this? How does any of this connect?”
“You ever consider they might not?”
I sighed. “That many criminals in one small town?”
“Sheesh. Small towns are crawling with all kinds of people up to no good. A hotbed of sinners.”
“Good God.”
“I think that’s the point. Look, what are you thinking? Because I have a few ideas, but they’re so outlandish that I haven’t said them aloud to anyone.”
“Well, you have my full attention. Will Zephyra be okay if you come over?”
“She took off. I’ll text Torah and ask her to follow up.
My dog-trainer sister’s all about forward action and getting on with the work that has to be done.
Zephyra has a full roster of pets who will need her tomorrow.
She can afford tonight to grieve, but tomorrow she’s got to go back and do the best job she can.
I’ll leave it up to Torah to drill that into her. ”
“Sounds like tough love.”
“If I wanted woo-woo, I’d send Sun. If I wanted coddling, I’d call Rainbow. If I wanted tough love, I’d sic Kennedy on her. The psychologist is the toughest one amongst us. Hence Zeph coming here rather than heading to the ranch.”
I rubbed my eyes. “That’s way too confusing.”
“Are you at your condo?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me ten.”
“Appreciate this.”
“You owe me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She cut the line.
What have we got?
I wish to God I knew.